Fireworks
by Princess Pinky
Summary: Amy and Ben spend their first Fourth of July together.


**A/N:** Happy 4th of July, fellow Americans! (And Benamy shippers!)

_**Fireworks**_

Amy Juergens stood in front of the mirror, buttoning the bronze colored button on her ultra slip navy colored hip huggers. She pressed her hands to her hips and slid them down her hourglass figure. It was hard to believe that less than three months ago she'd just given birth. She was _so_ skinny. And she loved it that way.

The barely turned sixteen-year-old lifted her arms and let the blood colored fabric of her baby doll top fall from where she'd been holding it while she'd been busy buttoning her jeans. The asymmetric hemline fell like a fluttering handkerchief, effectively covering her jeans down to just three inches above her knees, almost like a mini dress. Her mother had given it to her for her Sweet Sixteen and she'd waited for a special occasion to wear it, so not as to accidentally spill formula or the gooey contents of a dirty diaper on it or potentially allow John to spit up on the intricately beaded bust.

She turned to the side and pressed her hand to her flat belly, then turned to her other side and ran her hand over her curled golden brown tresses. She smiled at her reflection as she grabbed a white flower hair pin and pulled back a small portion of her hair, followed up by an application of dark cherry flavored lip gloss that only had a touch of reddish color, but a burst of sweet flavor. She pocketed the tube into her jeans, grabbed a white clutch, and swung open her bedroom door.

As she stepped into the hallway, an unmistakable scent filled the air. She wiggled her nose like Samantha Stephens and began to follow the smell down the hallway. Her stomach gave a low, guttural growl and she quickly pressed her purse to it, only for an even louder grumble to respond.

"Mom?" she called as she traipsed into the kitchen. Her eyes fell upon the door, which was slightly ajar. She pulled it open and slipped outside. "Mo-" She stopped and her eyes flickered in confusion. _"Ben?"_

"Hey!" Ben lifted his head from the barbeque grill and waved a pair of metal tongs at her.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she shut the door so bugs wouldn't get into the house. "I was just on my way over to see you." She pursed her lips, holding back her giggle at his outrageous red, white, and blue chef's hat.

"I thought I'd surprise you." He pulled the lid of the barbeque down and stepped aside from it, revealing a white and red checkered apron that looked like it had been cut right out of a picnic blanket. On the front, in big bold blue letters it read: _Kiss the Cook!_

Amy grinned and sniffed the air. "I thought it was strange when I smelt someone barbequing. My mom can't do it to save her life." She stepped towards her boyfriend and slipped her arm around his back. "You look cute by the way," she giggled before yanking his oversized hat down over his eyes. "Even if you do look like you're wearing a picnic blanket and a tri-colored oversized marshmallow on your head."

"Well I'll take that as a _compliment_," he grunted, before pushing his hat back up. Ben lifted the barbeque again and used the tongs to turn over the hotdogs that were cooking, revealing dark barbeque lines in the meat.

"_Mmmm…"_ Amy purred as she ran her hand along her boyfriend's back. "Boykewich Franks?"

"One-hundred percent all natural!"

"Hmm." She fluttered her eyelashes in flirtatious fashion. "Kinda like you and me?"

"Exactly." He leaned in, ready to kiss her, when a loud pop like a thousand guns saluting in the distance interrupted. They both turned and watched as a bright red firework exploded in the velvet sky. A silly smile found its way onto Ben's lips. "The Fourth of July is my favorite," he spoke suddenly, "when my mom was alive my dad would always be out there with the barbeque while my mom made lemonade and we'd just watch and talk and have fun…It was my favorite part of the summer."

Amy sighed as she leaned her head onto Ben's shoulder. "I wish I could've met your mom."

"She would've loved you…and I think you would've liked her pretty well too."

"Of course I would have," Amy agreed. "She gave me you, didn't she?" Another silver firework reflected in their eyes as it exploded in the night sky. Amy chewed her lip, then raised her index finger. "I'll be right back." She dropped her purse onto one of the plastic chairs on the patio and ran back inside.

"Okay…" Ben muttered as the door shut. She shrugged and set the tongs down in favorite of a red plastic plate which he placed two cushiony hotdog buns onto and then grabbed his tongs again and stole two dogs from the grill and slid them into their wraps.

With the utmost carefulness, he applied ketchup and mustard, lathering his own but only putting a few drops of mustard on Amy's and exactly three lines of ketchup, the way she loved it. He grinned to himself as several more pops rang out and he glanced at the sky to watch a detonation of color in streams, sparkles, and flares. It was just like how he remembered it when his mother had been alive.

"Ben?"

Ben spun around, distracted by his girlfriend's sugary sweet voice. He couldn't help but shed a grin when he saw her holding up a freshly made pitcher of lemonade, complete with two slices of lemon swirling in the liquid, and two wine glasses in her other hand. "How did you whip that up so fast?"

"A girl's gotta pick something up from her mother after sixteen years, right?" Amy sashayed over to the plastic outdoor patio table and set the lemonade and wine glasses down and proceeded to fill up the glasses. She grinned as she passed one to her boyfriend as two more fireworks burst into the air.

Ben held it up. "To the soldiers," he toasted.

"And to your mother." Amy clinked her glass with Ben's and they each took a sip in unison. When he was done she tilted her head to the side as if she were shy. "What did you think?"

"I think my mom would be proud." He grabbed his plate of hotdogs and held it out to her. "Your turn."

She daintily picked up her hotdog and took a bite and purposely chewed it achingly slow in front of her boyfriend, then she swallowed and frowned a little.

"You don't like it?" he asked, his face suddenly sullen.

"No, no." Amy shook her head. "It's amazing! Best hotdog I've ever had…it just…needs dessert."

"Dessert?" Ben's eyes lit up. "Well you're in luck! I made gel-" He felt her lips clash against hers as another firework exploded into the night. His breath caught halfway up his throat as his eyes closed and he surrendered to her passion. When their lips broke, his were still tingling like the sparkles left over from the latest golden firework.

"That was a good idea," Amy intoned as she motioned to his apron.

"Thanks." He whispered, still reeling from her kiss as the last of the sparkles disappeared into the night. "Man," he breathed, "I_ love_ the Fourth of July!"

"Not as much as _I_ love _you_."

"Hm. Then I guess the question is: do you love me as much as I love you?"

"More."

"Well why don't we test that theory?" Ben snuck his arm around her waist and pulled Amy to his chest and kissed her again. Neither one of them noticed that at precisely the same moment, firework after firework darted into the sky, signally the finale that reflected off their faces as they reveled in their own fireworks.


End file.
